


Broken Crown

by APrettySonnet



Series: Wild Heart [1]
Category: Mercy Thompson Series - Patricia Briggs
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben hates himself, Ben is a little shit, Ben's POV, Explicit Language, Homophobia, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kyle is a badass, M/M, Misogyny, Other, Pack Family, Past Drug Use, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Self-Hatred, Sexual Fantasy, Suicidal Thoughts, Warren is a scary motherfucking werewolf, Werewolf Mates, ben needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 10:38:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17847872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/APrettySonnet/pseuds/APrettySonnet
Summary: Ben Shaw hates himself and everyone else, except for Warren and Kyle. Over time, his friendship with Warren and Kyle becomes more meaningful, and he's not sure what to think about that.Rated for mature content, please mind the tags.AU in the Mercy-verse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ben's always been my favorite of the werewolves. He's rude and obnoxious, and I knew instinctively that covered up a terrible backstory. I recently read Shifting Shadows and was really moved by his story, Redemption. He's come a long way and I hope he continues to heal. I also love Warren and Kyle, and always thought they were really good for Ben. I've shipped this rare pairing for ages but haven't been moved to write anything until recently, when I read some of the other fantastic fics with this pairing. This is for you guys for inspiring me to explore Ben's pathos. I hope it doesn't suck.
> 
> I haven't written fic in years, this basically flew onto the page over the last two days, so please be kind and forgive any typos, tense changes, and comma over-usage. I've proofed it three times and keep finding things to change, but I can't look at it anymore. I'm kind of proud of this, so please let me know if you like it! Kudos and comments are love! 
> 
> The song referenced in part three is "Not an Addict" by K's Choice. The title refers to the song of the same name by Mumford and Sons off their brilliant album, Babel. Find me on tumblr: aprettysonnetfic.tumblr.com

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter one revised.

“Ben, don’t just stand there in the snow, come in! I told you on the phone that the door was open when you got here.”

Kyle leans against the open doorway, hand cocked on his hip and wearing tight jeans and a soft blue cotton sweater that shows off his collarbone. The snow doesn’t bother me at all anymore but seeing his throat exposed, that stirs something in my belly and I push it down.

“Are you coming in or do I put Dick’s top hat on you and call you a snowman?”

He steps back into the house he shares with his mate, Warren, and I slide in, careful not to touch him. The warmth of the house and the welcome I receive flusters me more than the snow. The house smells wonderful to my wolf nose and I inhale deeply taking in the scent of fresh baked bread and pine from the too large Christmas tree in the living room, along with the distinct scent of Warren and Kyle. And sex. There’s always the lingering scent of their shagging, which both thrills and appalls me.

I try not to touch Kyle as he takes my coat and hangs it in the closet. He asks me about my day as I take off my wet boots to leave with the shoes by the door, and I do my best to perform the expected social niceties. I don’t know what I say, but Kyle stops talking and just looks at me. He’s smart, Kyle is. Sharp, too. I always have to be extra careful around him. I give a weak smile that I hope isn’t too much teeth.

“You’ve had a bad day,” he says simply. I nod and scrub the bridge of my nose, where a headache has been brewing since the shite conference call to Sarasota. Kyle nods, and threads his arm through mine to lead me into the kitchen.  I let him. “Oh, Ben, darling, we’ll fix you right up, don’t you worry. Warren picked up steaks for dinner and there’s an amazing chocolate cake for dessert that is to die for. It’s a thank you gift from my client who owns a bakery. I got her an amazing settlement, which included full ownership of said bakery, and she’s showing her appreciation in baked goods.”

“Sounds good,” I hear myself say but it sounds hollow even to my ears. Warren claps me on the shoulder by way of greeting and he can tell I’m not right. He raises his head in a display of quiet dominance, and I feel more grounded when I lower my eyes. He’s in charge and I don’t have to worry while I’m here. I take one look at what he’s wearing and burst out laughing. Laughing makes me feel better, more human, and Warren's smile is genuine now that I’ve settled into my skin.

“See something you find amusing, hmm?” he asks with a laugh. Over his well-worn Wrangler jeans and soft grey plaid shirt, he’s wearing an apron that says “Kiss the Cock” with a picture of a winking cartoon rooster just below his hips. It’s crude as fuck and I love it. Kyle had to have bought it for him because Warren just doesn’t have that twist to his sense of humor. If he does, he hides it behind a thick veneer of gentlemanly behavior which I sorely lack.

“I knew Ben would get a kick out of the apron!” Kyle says with a laugh. He releases my arm and sashays over to Warren to give him a big kiss. I look away but I can hear it, and I know there was tongue involved. I open the fridge and pull out a beer instead of saying something rude that would get me in trouble with Warren. Warren is third in my pack, and is the only openly gay werewolf that I have ever heard of. He used to be a motherfucking cowboy, for Christ’s sake. He’s lean and rugged and the thought of getting on his bad side scares the shit out of me. For whatever reason, he’s decided that we’re friends, despite the fact that I am not even remotely a good or decent person. I’ve got a reputation, but he just ignores what everyone says. It boggles my mind as I’ve cultivated rudeness to that of an art form. I sometimes flirt with Kyle just to annoy him, but he never seems to care. He and Kyle, for whatever reason, decided to be kind to me even after I was forced to kill and eat Daniel. I think if he knew the truth about how truly awful I am, he’d put me down, or at the very least keep Kyle far away.

Like the first time they invited me over for movie night, their graciousness and kindness knocks the wind out of me. They give me my space and don’t ask questions I don’t want to answer. The domesticity of their home makes the back of my teeth itch because I’m not used to how touchy feely they are. Go figure, it’s the mated poofters, the other social pariahs in the pack, that do the most to make me feel welcome after being exiled to the arse end of nowhere. According to the twats in the pack, their sin of loving each is as bad, if not worse, than my own. And everyone thinks I’m a fucking rapist. It’s mad. I don’t know why I keep coming over. Only I do. I know exactly why and I refuse to think about how much of a sick fuck I am.

Warren disappears out the back door in a flurry of snow. He’s going to grill the steaks outside despite Kyle’s insistence that they can just cook on the grill pan over the stove. Warren says it doesn’t taste the same, and I agree with him. With the click of the latch, I’m alone with Kyle.

I’m not gay, but there’s something soft about Kyle, something womanly, that makes me want to do things to him. And I’ve done things. I’ve had things done to me that pretty much guarantees I’ll be a sick fuck for the rest of my life. I was molested. I’ve sucked dick for drugs. I’ve fucked, god, anything with a hole when I was nineteen and drunk or high as shite on whatever I could get my hands on. Drugs would let me forget that I was afraid of men or that women were a bunch of cunts and I could just lose myself in my lust. Between the drinking and the drugs, Da’s dirty money paid for several stints in rehab, but I kept going back to it because it was preferable to living.

I wanted to die most of the time, but I was too cowardly to actually do it. I’d probably have overdosed if Dave, my former Alpha, hadn’t needed a hacker and brought me into the pack. For all the power that comes with turning furry once a month, the trade-offs are sometimes a bunch of shite. Sometimes I really miss getting bloody drunk or high as balls. None of that works on me anymore.

I look at Kyle in his soft sweater and I want to bite him. He’s pretty and slight with perfectly gelled dark brown hair and sharp eyes. I could break him in two if I wanted but I don’t want to. The more I get to know him, the more I actually like him. I offer to help make the salad and try to not think about how his collarbone would feel under my teeth. I don’t like people touching me on the best of days, but I don’t mind so much when Kyle does.

Kyle decided we’re watching a movie marathon for some actor I’ve never heard of. He’s big on themes. He makes Warren turn out all the lights until the room is lit only by the tv and the twinkling lights from the too-large tree that’s covered with white and silver ornaments. The room is twinkling and cozy and I’m sat in the corner of their ridiculously large and comfortable couch, with a bowl of popcorn and a beer. The first movie, House II, is a ridiculous pseudo-horror movie from the eighties that Kyle absolutely loves. I like it despite myself because it’s campy and fun. The second movie turns out to be a gay romantic comedy called The Big Eden. I think it’s stupid but Kyle eats it up and cuddles close to Warren on the couch. Warren laughs too loudly when the old cowboy redneck matchmakers make an appearance, like they’re the bloody height of comedy. Something about his laughter makes me smile and settles my wolf, and I’m not sure it’s a good thing or not. During the boring parts, which are most of the movie, they hold hands and kiss each other softly. Kyle catches me looking and I ignore them after that. If Warren notices, he ignores it.

They see me to the door sometime near midnight. Warren is a gentleman and helps me with my coat even though I don’t need or want the help. Kyle wraps himself around Warren and tells me with a big smile and a wink that it was a pleasure having me over and they’ll see me next week. I promise to come back. I shouldn’t, but I do.

That night as I’m lying in bed, I try not to jerk off to the image of Kyle watching me as he and Warren kiss, or to the thought of biting at Kyle’s collarbone until he gasps and wriggles in my arms, and fail. I’m such a sick fuck. If Warren finds out, I’m dead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Expanded and revised!

A year goes by in the blink of an eye and things with Warren and Kyle are essentially the same, but entirely different. I go to their house often for reasons other than movie night or pack business. I'm always welcome and they make sure I'm comfortable there, where it’s warm, bright and homey, unlike my shite apartment. Some nights I feel like the giant gooseberry that I am even though they try to hide it, especially when it's obvious that Warren wants to steal Kyle away upstairs and shag him into oblivion. I make sure to leave early those nights, despite their protests that I should stay. I may be rude but I'm not *that* rude, especially not to them.

It is a bloody awful Monday, and I'd had one of those days at work where everything seemed to break at once. I was snappish and was a knife's edge from losing my temper if anyone looked at me cross-eyed. Worst of all, it was my birthday and no one even knew. Kyle had left an invitation to come over in my voicemail, several messages actually, but I had been ignoring his calls due to the shiteshow at work. I knew I should call back, but I tossed my phone on the counter in favor of eating leftovers and watching crap telly. A little after eight, a loud pounding at my door rouses me from dozing on the couch and it pisses me off. I don't bother putting on my shirt as I stalk across the living room to the door, ready to rip someone's head off.

With a growl, I throw open the door, and see Warren standing there, arms raised to knock again. He stands back and crosses his arms, very obviously put out. I blink and mutter, "The fuck are you doing here?"

"Put a shirt on, we're going," he grinds out. 

"Did something happen with the pack?" I ask, walking into my apartment and straight into the bedroom looking for a clean shirt, leaving the door open for him to come in. He does. It's the first time he's been here for all the times I've been over to his, and I can see he's trying hard not to judge. I need to tidy up, but it's not that bad. 

"Naw, nothing with the pack. Did you even check your messages today?" he asks idly as he leans against my bedroom door frame. I pull out something red and long-sleeved and pull it over my head. He watches me neutrally, and I know I'm on his shit list. Fuck.

"No. I didn't. It's been a crap day and I'm cranky and tired. If this is about Kyle's messages, I figured that it could wait until tomorrow," I explained grumpily, brushing past him to get back into my own living room. He stalks behind me to the door and waits while I pull on my trainers.

"Nope, it can't wait. Kyle's in a tizzy because you were supposed to come over tonight and you didn't. I sorely hate when Kyle gets in a tizzy, Ben, so that means your coming with me whether you want to or not."

"Why the hell do I have to come over tonight? It's not a movie night, Warren. It's just a fucking Monday," I growl. Warren arches his eyebrow at me and opens the door with a flourish.

"Kyle wants you over, so you're coming over. You'll see why when you get there."

"You're bloody whipped, is what you are," I snipe as I grab my wallet and keys, and lock the door behind me. 

"Maybe. But it's worth it every night," Warren says with a wolfish smile, and I'm surprised at him. Innuendo is not his thing, it's mine and Kyle's. His phone rings and he looks at it and smiles, "Speaking of, I'd better let him know I've got you."

It's a short conversation, with Warren telling him we'll be there in twenty, and I can distinctly hear Kyle tell him to not tell me anything before they disconnect the phone. Warren shoots me a shit-eating grin and says nothing. He's definitely whipped.

We don't talk on the way over, instead Warren turns up an ancient Johnny Cash cassette in the tape deck and we listen in companionable silence. I want to hate the music, but it's actually pretty good, even if it is old as hell. He taps his fingers and sings passionately to "Ring of Fire" with a lovely baritone I didn't expect. When we get to the house, Kyle is standing in the open doorway with his arms crossed, looking put out. Great, I think, he's going to be a bitchy queen all night. 

"Warren, thank you for going to get him," he says, kissing his mate when we enter. As I try to pass him, he stops me with a pointed finger jabbed into my chest. "You're on my shit list, Ben. You should have called me back hours ago. I, no we, were worried about you. Don't make me have to send Warren out to fetch you again. Do you understand me, Benjamin?"

"Why do you even care? What the fuck is all this about, Kyle, dragging me out of my house when all I want is to be left alone," I bark at him and push his finger off my chest. He huffs at me and grabs my arm, hauling me towards the dining room. I think about standing my ground and not budging out of spite, but a sharp look from Warren gets my feet moving.

I'm led through the doorway and I just... stop. There's balloons and streamers hanging from the chandelier, and a banner with birthday felicitations. There's even a cake on the table, with unlit candles on top. I'm utterly gobsmacked. Kyle stops tugging, then turns around to face me and opens his arms wide at the room.

"Happy birthday, you furry idiot," he says softly, picking up a party hat from the table and plonking it on my head. I can't say anything because it's too much. I turn to Warren to make sure this is real,and he sends me a soft smile from where he's leaning in the doorway. 

"Happy birthday, Ben," he says, clapping me on the shoulder as he moves to pick up the camera sitting on the table and snaps a picture of me, "Kyle, this was worth driving out to fetch him just for the look on his face."

"How..." I finally say, looking between the two of them with wide eyes. Kyle beams at me and goes to fuss with the candles on the cake instead of saying anything else. He somehow always knows when I need a minute to compose myself.  It's been a long, long time since anyone cared to celebrate my birthday. I swallow around the lump in my throat and go look at the cake. It's some sort of chocolate layer cake with raspberries on top, and it looks utterly scrummy. My mouth starts watering.

"It's a chocolate sponge with chocolate ganache and raspberries, in case you're wondering," he says as he starts lighting the candles, "I called my baker friend this morning, you remember, the one I represented last year, and asked her if she could make an emergency British birthday cake for a special British friend. She told me that she knew exactly the thing, managed to whip it up this afternoon and here we are. I hope you like it."

"How did you even know? Nobody here knows my birth day," I ask him seriously. He nods to Warren, who grins and snaps another picture of the two of us.

"Let's just say that a certain Alpha asked me if we had plans for your birthday when I was over at the house this morning. I called Kyle, and he decided that we had to do something. This was all him, by the way. I just fetched you because you weren't calling him back."

"Now I've got September nineteenth in my calendar as a very special date! Next year we'll do something even nicer," kyle says, wrapping his arm around my waist fondly after lighting the last candle.

"This is too much. I don't know what to say. Thank you," I say and mean it. I can't stop smiling, I'm so chuffed at this surprise. 

"Warren, I think I really like happy Ben, though I've never seen him smile so much and it's scaring me. Look, he's even got a dimple," Kyle says and tweaks my cheek. I mock bite at his fingers, and he laughs delightedly while Warren takes another picture.

"You're welcome. It's real nice to see you so happy, Ben. Now, let's get this over with before you burn our house down."

They sing Happy Birthday to me and I blow out the candles, and I can't remember the last time I've felt so happy. Warren finally puts down the camera and we eat the cake. It's the best cake I've ever had, and I say so. Kyle decides he wants a picture of all us and pulls out his phone. They crowd around me and Kyle kisses my cheek just as he snaps the picture on his phone. Then he takes another picture with me blushing as they laugh. My heart hurts in my chest and I can't stop smiling. It can't get any better. 

"Ben, I know it's not much, but we wanted to give you something meaningful. We've been talking about giving you this for a couple weeks, and this seemed like the perfect time. So happy birthday," and a small wrapped box is placed in my hands. I arch my eyebrows at them as it looks like a ring box, it's so small.

"I don't know, don't you think it's a little too soon to be proposing," I say flirtatiously and wink at Kyle. He winks back and Warren nudges me to just open it already. I tear open the paper and it's a small white box that contains a rainbow key. I pick it up and look at them quizzically. 

"It's our house key," Warren says as he squeezes my shoulder fondly. Kyle hugs me from behind and whispers in my ear that they both think it's time I had it.

"Why? I don't deserve to have this," I say, not able to look at them. I shouldn't accept this. I'm not worthy of that trust. If they knew, they'd take it back. I should stop coming over, they're making me go soft, and I'm not soft. A small, mutinous part of me wants to keep this, to just be fucking happy for once, and the darkness retreats. I turn the key over in my hands; of course the key to their house has a bloody rainbow on it.

"Well, we trust you, Ben. You're here often enough that you ought to have a copy, just in case. If something happens, you can always come here. Besides, it's nice to know that if I lose me keys, you can let me in my own damn house," Warren says with a big grin. I push down the feelings bubbling up in my chest and put the bloody thing on my key ring. It looks ridiculous there.

"I'm only taking the bloody thing in case of emergencies. It's not like I'm ever going to to use it."

*     *     *

I should have kept my bloody mouth shut, I think as I shove the key in the lock, not a month later. There's an issue with a rogue Fae, and he's pissed at Warren for reasons I don't quite understand. From the frantic phone call I got from him, Warren, Adam, and some of the pack are booking it back from around the Walla Walla Reservation and Warren needs me to protect Kyle. 

As I enter the door, I smell it. There's Fae scent everywhere, but fortunately, no metallic scent of blood. Fear clenches in my chest and I think that Kyle had better be fucking alright or I was going to hurt him. I hear a scuffle upstairs and I run towards it. As I'm halfway up the stairs, I hear the loud bang of a rifle firing. Good boy, I think, and run faster. I turn the corner at the top of the stairs and see the Fae towering over Kyle with something sharp in his hand. I don't think I just react, jumping on him with a snarl. I let my Wolf out and I feel myself turning, and feel the shift and pop as my bones and muscles start to realign. It bloody hurts every single time, but I've got adrenaline coursing through my veins, and Kyle to protect, so I don't notice so much.

The bloody Fae looks like fucking Bowie from that Muppet movie. Except there's less glitter and crystal balls and more menace and magic. He turns to me just before I knock him down and start to fight him in earnest. Kyle is struggling to reload the rifle and he yells at me to be careful. The Fae takes a swipe at me and I feel a  sharp sting against my ribs as he cuts me with his knife. Silver. It really fucking hurts.

I'm not a great fighter, but I'm mean and fight dirty. I need to make him underestimate me. I feint to the left and he follows, and I try to kick his legs out from under him. He doesn't go down entirely but I land a solid blow. We scuffle and I feel myself bowing over as my legs start to rearrange underneath me. I charge and try to rip his throat out with my now sharpened teeth. I don't quite get a good grip, but I take a bloody chunk with me. 

He manages to knock me down and he raises his knife to slash down into my chest. If that connects, I'm dead. Finally, I think, though my body still fights back.

"Hey Jareth, get the fuck off my friend," Kyle yells and the Fae looks up at him. As he does, Kyle fires, unleashing a blast that's loaded for Fae. Kyle is scared and fierce and I want to kiss him. The Fae get's a face full of cold iron, and his scream is one of agony. He rolls off of me and grasps at his face, which is a smoking crater. I leap to my feet and grab him, twisting his neck until it pops and he goes limp in my arms. I drop him just as my arms start to rearrange themselves. I rip at my clothes trying to get them off and the cut from the silver knife burns with every movement. 

Kyle sets the gun down and rushes over to me. He unbuckles my belt and leans down to pull off the shreds of my socks. My shoes were lost somewhere in the fight. 

"If you wanted to get me naked, ahh god that burns, you should ask first," I huff out before my muzzle extends and I lose the ability to talk. I wriggle out of my pants, red fur coveringmy wolf form. It's gross to watch, and I have to give it to Kyle for not gagging at what he's seeing.

"You started taking your clothes off in my bedroom, so I thought I had an invitation. Jesus, Ben, you just killed that.. elf? Goblin king? I don't even know. I need to sit down. Ben are you alright?"

I shake free of my pants and I stand up, now in my full werewolf glory. I'm still bleeding from the silver cut, and I'm covered in Fae blood, but I'm alright. I shoulder him down into the corner and curl around Kyle, licking him full in the face as I do so. I need to protect him. 

"Ugh.. dog breath. And you're getting blood all over everywhere! My Tom Ford shoes! Stop bleeding on my shoes!" he wriggles underneath me and tries to get up, but I put a giant paw on him and hold him down, and huff at him. I consider eating the shoes out of spite after everything that's happened. He gives up after it dawns on him that he won't win, and I drop my head on his chest so I can hear his very human heart beat, safe and protected. Kyle's safe and the Fae is dead. Now we wait for Warren and Adam to show up with the pack. 

"There's a dead elf on my bedroom floor and my friend turned into a giant wolf that won't let me up. Warren told me weird stuff would happen, but I didn't believe him, Ben," he says dazedly, and ruffles the fur at my neck. I lick his chin and huff a breath in agreement. "Ben, I'm glad you saved me. I thought that things was going to kill me, and you saved me. Thank you."

My Wolf preens and licks his face again before settling down to wait. This is the first time I've let the wolf out and I felt truly at peace with it. It wants to rip and rend, to eat and kill, but that side of me is happy and content for once outside of Running during the Full Moon. He thinks of Kyle as pack and home and someone that must be protected at all costs. I'm content to wait right here and protect Kyle forever, but that only lasts maybe another hour when we hear the pack vehicles pull up. I hear Warren come into the house and run up the stairs, calling for his mate, and for me. He rushes into room, eyes yellow and sees the dead Fae on the floor, and then sees me wrapped protectively around his mate in the corner. 

I get up and go to him, licking his hand in greeting. I look up at him and then to Kyle and walk out of the room. I don't want to watch their reunion, as I can feel something strong pull and stretch in my heart. I go downstairs and greet my Alpha with the sounds of them embracing behind me.

Later, when I'm human again, and dressed in a pair of Warren's borrowed sweats and a tee-shirt, I sit on the couch clutching a mug of hot tea in my hands. I wince at the burn of the silver cut whenever I move, which one of the pack dressed for me. The Fae body has been taken care of and Adam is leaving with the last of the pack. Kyle is upstairs taking a shower, washing away the blood and my scent. I liked that he smelled like me but I'm sure it bothered Warren to no end. Good. 

Warren drops onto the couch next to me with a weary sigh. I turn to look at him as he leans back against the back of the couch and covers his eyes with his hands. He looks exhausted and his hair is sticking up in the back. After a few minutes of just sitting, he turns to look at me. 

"Ben, you did good. Thank you for saving my mate."

I take sip of the hot tea before answering, "I didn't just do it for you, you know. I couldn't let anything happen to him; he's one of my best mates."

"I know. I want to thank you all the same. I was so afraid, Ben, and you protected him when I couldn't. That means a lot to me. This is why you have the key, Ben."

"I would have come in through the bloody front window, so you know. I'd be picking glass out of my skin and bitched to you the entire time," I smile into my tea as he barks a laugh. 

"Still, you did good," he leans over and pats my knee companionably, and that's the end of it.

Kyle comes down the stairs shortly after, and plops down onto the couch between us. He's soft and shower-damp, clad in plaid pajama bottoms and a very soft and faded Cornell t-shirt. I can't help but want to curl back up around him like I did upstairs, but I think better of it. 

"I made tea, I hope you don't mind. Do you want some? Warren?" I ask at last, and Kyle's still got that dazed look from earlier, but he nods. Warren asks if I could get him a beer, and I nod, getting up to head into the kitchen. 

As I leave the room, I hear Kyle turn to Warren and them rustle to get closer. I'm sure they'll be kissing when I get back, and I just roll my eyes. I've been coming over so much that I know where everything is in their kitchen, and I no longer feel like a guest to be waited on. I turn on the hob to heat the water and pull a mug down, adding a tea bag, something relaxing called Sleepytime, which isn't actually tea I think. Kyle could use something relaxing. I putter around, grabbing Warren's beer from the fridge as the water starts to boil. I'm turning domestic here, I'm so comfortable. It's not such a bad feeling. One day this is going to stop, and it would be easier if I stopped coming over, but I can’t help myself. There’s a pain in my chest that I rub at absently when I think about losing this, whatever this is. I don’t want to name it because it will make me feel too vulnerable and hurt. Werewolves mate for life and that includes exactly two people. When it comes down to it, my I’m just a temporary third wheel. But I want this for now, whatever it is. They are good to me in ways that no one has ever been before, and it terrifies me as much as it makes me feel happy. 

I fill the mug and add some sugar, then grab Warren's beer and head back into the living room. As I suspected, they're wrapped around each other, and Warren's tongue is definitely rooting around in Kyle's mouth like he's marking him from the inside. I stop where I am and watch. Something inside me pangs and I want this. Something like this. I want them to kiss me like this, and push that feeling down because it's impossible and I'm straight. Fuck.

I clear my throat and they part, sheepish at being caught. They scoot apart just enough to be decent, and I think that I liked them better close together like that. I stride across the room and hand Warren the beer, and then carefully put the steaming mug into Kyle's cold hands.

"Careful, luv, it's hot," I say and then settle back into my corner of the couch. Warren takes a pull at his beer and turns on the telly, changing the channel from news to How It's Made. We all just sit and watch how crayons are made for a bit, not thinking about what happened earlier tonight.

"Ben should stay here tonight," Kyle says apropos to nothing. He turns to Warren and says it again, and he nods. Kyle turns to me with big brown eyes and a hopeful look, and whatever argument I was going to make dies on my tongue.

"Fine. I'm too exhausted to really drive, anyway," I grump at him, and go back to watching the show.

Warren snorts a laugh and mutters under his breath that he's not the only one whipped around here, and I shoot him a glare. Kyle just looks smug.

They put me in the room across the hall from them, and Kyle makes sure I've got everything I need, including a new toothbrush. He leans into me before he turns to go to bed, and I pull him into a hug. I shouldn't but I do. He smells good and I want to rub my face into his hair.

"I was so worried I'd get here too late, Kyle. You know you mean a lot to me. Both of you," I amend and enjoy the feeling of him as he melts into my arms. It's innocent, really, but I'm awful and think about only kissing him a little. He looks up and smiles, and I'm sorely tempted, but I don't. I don't have a death wish today.

"You mean a lot to us, too. You know that, right?" he asks and gives me a squeeze, then gently pulls away. "Goodnight, Ben."

Later that night I wake up to the sound of them shagging. They're trying to be incredibly quiet, but I can hear them clearly, and I wonder what Warren's doing to make Kyle gasp like that. It's maddening, listening to them, and I want to creep out of bed and cross the hall to see. I take myself in hand and near silently jerk off to the sounds of their fucking.  I want to see what they’re doing that makes the other feel so good. I desperately want Warren to bite my neck, and for Kyle to kiss me as passionately as he does Warren. I want to feel that good. I'm sick and fucked up and I shouldn't be doing this. But I do. They're louder, closer to completion, and I cum when they do, biting my lip so I don't make any noise.  

I've always hidden my true feelings under layers of denial and rudeness because to tell the truth would make me too vulnerable. Being vulnerable gets you hurt. I want to be vulnerable with them and that scares the piss out of me. If they found out, I’d never be allowed back; I don’t think Warren would kill me anymore, but he’d definitely hurt me. He'd be disappointed with me, and that's almost worse. I should stop coming over, but I’m an addict who can’t stop.

I don’t want to stop, I think as I drift back to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

It’s a beautiful summer day and I hate the world. My sodding truck won’t fucking start, and I’m waiting for a tow to Mercy’s garage. When I call, she tells me she doesn’t normally work on Chevy’s but she thinks it’s the starter when a jump from a neighbor does nothing. I’m not just late for work, but I have to use one of the precious PTO days that I save for full moon’s and pack emergencies to deal with this shite.

I call Warren to let him know I’ll probably miss movie night and he offers to play chauffer, or let me borrow his truck, until mine is fixed. I tell him I’ll think about it, I have to get the truck to Mercy’s first and see what she says and how long it will take for parts.

When I finally get to the bleeding garage, it’s almost noon and I’m starving. Kyle’s Jaguar is sitting in the parking lot and he’s leaning against the hood of his car talking to Mercy. I wave to them both as I jump down out of the tow truck.

“I heard you were having trouble with your truck, so I thought I’d swing by and take you out to lunch,” he says as he walks over and gives me a kiss on the cheek. Mercy raises her eyebrows and wisely says nothing, instead pointing the driver where to park my truck.

“Don’t you have better things to do, like make your opposition cry?”

“I checked that off the to-do list at ten, so I’m all yours until my three o’clock meeting,” he replies with a shark grin.

I laugh despite myself and feel the day is getting better. I give Mercy my keys and she says she’ll know whether it’s the starter or not by the time we get back. Kyle’s putting the top down on the Jag as I slide into the leather passenger seat and buckle up.

“Since Warren’s not here, how about that Tex-Mex place that he can’t stand in Pasco?”

“Sounds good to me. I could murder a few hundred tacos,” I reply as he revs the Jaguar and we head out. He takes a left onto 240 and I realize we’re taking the long way to the restaurant.

“You don’t mind, I hope? I’m in the mood to take a drive and feel the wind in my hair,” he says as we speed well over the limit along Columbia Park. I’m a fan of the wind of my hair so I settle back and enjoy the view of the River. He flips on the radio to the 90’s station and turns it up when he recognizes the song and starts singing along.

“Ben, I haven’t heard this since college! The deeper you stick it in your vein, the deeper the thoughts there's no more pain. I'm in heaven, I'm a god I'm everywhere, I feel so hot,” he sings along and I go cold the more I hear. I grip the door handle because it reminds me of London and the sweet feeling that I’ve long left behind. I’m transported back to the dirty flat with the mattress on the floor where I’d get high. I could almost smell the mustiness of dirty sheets and stale fags and spilled beers. I start panting. I haven’t thought about that shitehole in years.

After the chorus he takes his eyes off the road to look over at me and pales. He hits a button and the station changes to classical then turns it down to a more bearable level, and I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

Thankfully he doesn’t say anything about it until we get to Hacienda Del Rio and are ensconced in a private table on the back patio. I’ve calmed down and reality has returned as he orders a Coke for me and a margarita for himself.  
He leans back into his seat as we bake under the bright yellow umbrella and studies me as if he’s never seen me before. I sigh heavily and I’m not sure I whether I want to tell him the truth or not.

“I didn’t know you used to use, Ben,” he says quietly after an interminable amount of time where our drinks are set on the table along with chips and salsa. We haven’t even opened our menus yet.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Kyle,” I say simply and give him the werewolf stare. He holds my gaze for a long time before dropping his eyes and taking a big gulp of his margarita. I ignore him and open the menu, even though I know what I want. Warren hates this place because it’s fake Tex-Mex, as he calls it, but I like the tacos and the time I get to spend with Kyle alone. It’s become our place, if we could even have such a thing.

The waiter takes our order and Kyle fortunately gets the hint and talks about cases he’s working on. I don’t like women, but he knows I like to hear about how he fucks with the opposition until he gets what he wants, which is lots of money for his clients.

I’m taking a bite out of my second taco when he asks the question I knew was coming. He can’t leave well enough alone most of the fucking time, which drive Warren crazy. I’ve never been on the receiving end of his questioning, though, and now I understand now why Warren gets frustrated.

“Did you ever go into rehab?” He asks and leans forward, propping his chin on his cupped hand. He’s carefully neutral when he asks, but I can see that he’s two breaths away from frowning. I finish the taco and wipe my hands before I respond.

“A couple times, luv,” I say with only a little venom. “Does it bother you that I used to get high as fuck and loved it?”

“But you don’t do it anymore?” And there’s the frown.

“Not since I started turning furry once a month. I can’t get high anymore, Kyle, no matter how much I’d like to.”

“What happened to you over there, Ben?” he asks sadly, and then reaches across the table to take my hand. They’re soft and his nails are perfectly manicured. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry. I care about you and I never expected… I never thought that drugs were one of your issues.”

“And just what,” I ask very quietly, pulling my hand away,” do you think are my bloody issues?”

“Ben. Please. Let’s not go into this here,” he says looking at his plate, careful of his words. I can feel rage and the wolf pulling at the edges of my humanity, so I start to take a few deep breaths to calm myself. So this is the end of everything with Kyle and Warren. I might as well go out with a bloody bang. Relationship suicide is something I know how to do.

“We should absolutely get into this,” I reply finally, my voice cold. “You want to know what happened to dear little Benny-boy in England? You tell me what you think happened to me and I’ll tell you if you’re fucking right. But not here; too many bystanders.”

“Do I need to call Warren?” he asks calmly, though I can tell he’s not.

“I don’t know, Kyle, do you?”

He stands up, pulls his wallet out and throws a couple twenties on the table and heads for the door. I stalk him to the car. His mouth is tight and he pulls out his phone. Instead of calling Warren like I expect, he calls his office and tells them to cancel his three o’clock appointment, something more important has come up. He looks me right in the eyes the entire conversation, then gets in the car. He’s brave and I can’t help but respect that.

We drive the twenty minutes to his house in silence, with only the sounds of the wind and classical music to keep my mind off what’s coming. I’m calm by the time I get out of the Jag and walk to the front door. I use my rainbow key for the last time. It’s just as well we’re here; I can get my stuff and leave the key when this is over.

He walks into the kitchen and pulls out a bottle of wine, then pours himself a large glass. Lucky Kyle could still get drunk. I wished, not for the first time, that alcohol still worked. He stands across from the giant island and just looks at me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“Do you really want to do this, Ben?” he asks at last.

“Yeah. I really do. You might as well pull the goddamn bandage off in one go, luv. Then I’ll get my shit and go.” He doesn’t say anything but he takes another large gulp of wine. “Go on, I want to hear what you think my goddamn bloody issues are.”

“I don’t want you to get your things and go, Ben.”

“Too late for that. Tell. Me. What. My. Fucking. Issues. Are.” I grind out and slam my hands on the granite counter. It doesn’t crack.

“I think you were abused… emotionally and physically by your previous pack. And that you were raped at least once, probably more than once, by a woman,” he says in a calm, clinical voice.

I can’t help it, but I start laughing. I feel like the world is tipping and I just open up my mouth and the truth comes out in a torrent because I’ve never been good at keeping my goddamn mouth shut.

“Wrong. So fucking wrong, Kyle. Well, you did get one thing right, about the rape. I was raped. By my dear old dad. It went on for years and my cunt mother knew. She knew and would send me into the library so my dad could touch me. He’d do things to me, Kyle, that would make you vomit. She was the perfect mother, everyone said so, so pretty and with such a brilliant son, and she fucking let my father rape me!”

“I stopped being the perfect son after that, and started rebelling, as they’d say. Hooliganism, theft, but I was good at hacking, Kyle. Daddy paid to keep me out of trouble. I wanted to die but was too fucking much of a coward to do it, so I started drinking. Then the drinking didn’t help, so I started to do drugs. And the drugs didn’t help, not really. I’d nearly overdosed a couple times, and each time they sent me to rehab and each time I got out I’d start using again. Over and over, getting high and fucking whatever cunts and blowing whatever cock that would get me more. I’d let the dealer shag me for a hit. I have a pretty mouth and I put it to good use. That’s a nice image, isn’t it, Kyle? Then I got turned into a fucking werewolf. They’d needed a hacker and I was good at it. I wasn’t asked, Kyle, and I wish I’d died that first full moon because I was going through withdrawal and vomiting all over myself while I changed into a goddamn werewolf!”

“Is that enough, or should I keep going? Should I tell you about Terry and how I was ordered to watch him beat up women? How I liked to hear them scream? How I liked to watch? Do you want to hear how much of a sick fuck I am, Kyle, because you have no idea what kind of monster you were inviting into your house this entire time? You even gave me a fucking key and made me feel like I belonged! Now I’ve gone and lost everything because you had to pry into my fucking business!” I was screaming and I swiped my hands across the granite island, sending everything to the floor in a crash of broken crockery. Kyle had stepped back wide-eyed and was pressed against the dishwasher, knuckles white around his wineglass.

He didn’t say anything as I gripped the edges of the counter and breathed. I wanted to let the wolf out and run. I wanted to run away because I was a fucking coward. I could feel the prick of tears and I hated myself more. I didn’t fucking cry, ever. Instead I breathed and tried to hold it together and not hurt Kyle.

I hear Kyle set the wineglass down on the counter with a clink, and slow movements from him. He walks slowly, so slowly across the kitchen, his shoes cracking on the broken glass, and stops within inches of me, not quite touching but supportive. I risk a glance his way and see that he’s got his eyes on the ground in a submissive stance. He must have picked up this werewolf move from Warren. I think he’s brave and foolish, and I don’t understand why he hasn’t left the room.

We stand like this for what seems like hours, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. I feel more in control and I scrub my eyes with the back of my hands. I take my keys out of my pocket and start to take Warren and Kyle’s house key off my key ring. Kyle puts his hand over mine to stop me.

“Don’t. I’m sorry, Ben. I shouldn’t have pried.” He pauses for a second then adds, “Is it okay that I’m touching you?”

“No, you bloody well shouldn’t have and yeah, it’s okay,” I say with a resigned sigh. He twines his fingers through mine and leans against me. It’s comforting. “Do you feel better knowing just how fucking sick in the head I am?”

“No, I don’t feel better. That was… terrible. And sad. I can’t imagine the hell you’ve been through, Ben. I’m glad you didn’t kill yourself and that you found your way here, to us.”

“I’m a coward.”

“No. You’re a survivor. You took all that abuse and kept going. You’ve changed since you’ve been here, started healing. I hope this doesn’t set back that process,” Kyle says quietly, and rubs his cheek against my arm. He’s trying so hard to calm me and make me feel better that I can’t say anything. “What do you need right now, Ben?”

“I don’t know. No one has ever asked me that before,” I admit.

“Oh. Ben…I would like to give you a hug, if it’s alright.” He looks up at me with concerned eyes, and, yeah, I need that. Desperately. Instead of answering, I turn towards him and wrap my arms around him and pull him in. I’m too tall and he’s so small, but he settles his head in the center of my chest and squeezes me tightly. It’s amazing. I nose in his hair and scent him, because right now he’s mine. He’s perfect and warm and I know why Warren loves him so bloody much.

The front door opens and I pull away as Warren comes into the kitchen. He stops and takes in the scene, Kyle standing too close, the broken glass on the floor, and something passes across his face that makes me think I’m about to die. I take another step back and lift my neck and take the most submissive stance I can. I don’t dare look at him.

“Warren, it’s all right. Everything’s fine. Ben and I had an argument, but it’s all worked out,” Kyle says, stepping between us. Warren crosses the room and starts to touch Kyle, making sure he’s not hurt. He growls low and Kyle lets him. “Warren, I’m not hurt. You know Ben would never hurt me.”

“What happened?” he growls once he’s decided that, no, nothing has happened to his mate. I can see out of the corner of my eye that he’s staring at me and his eyes are very yellow.

“Ben and I were having lunch at that Mexican place you hate and we had an argument. We came back here so as not to make a scene and talk it out. He got angry and broke some of the plates that were on the island, but that’s all. It’s fine. I’m fine. Ben isn’t, though, so please calm down. And for god’s sake, don’t hurt him.”

“What was the argument about?” he asks me, and stalks over to tower over me. I’m taller that Warren normally, but I make myself as small as possible and bare my throat to him. I’m afraid he’ll do something even though Kyle is defending me.

“I’m sorry, Warren. He asked about my past and I got so fucking angry. Then we drove back here to talk and we argued and I’m sorry I broke your dishes. I told him what happened to me in London and he calmed me down. He told me I didn’t have to give your house key back, then hugged me right before you came but nothing happened; I swear to god, I didn’t do anything to him,” I babble because I’m about to piss myself, and I hope to god that he believes me. It’s the truth.  
Warren puts his hands on the counter, pinning me in with another growl. My knees get weak and shrink away in fear. Kyle walks over and plasters himself against Warren’s back, putting his hand on his arms and ineffectively tries to pull him back.

“Warren, please stop! Ben needs support right now and you’re scaring the shit out of him. Just stop! This isn’t helping anything. I talked him out of taking his things and going once today, I don’t want to do it again!”

Warren blinks. He looks at me hard then blinks again. Then he takes a deep breath and another, and then leans his chin on the top of my head in both forgiveness and apology. I can’t relax though because I know my knees will give out, so I bare my throat again just to make sure everything is fine.

“Why didn’t either of you call me to come home? You both know angry wolves don’t always think about what they’re doing. You could have hurt Kyle,” Warren says and drops his head to my neck and bites me. It’s just hard enough to remind me that I’d been stupid. I shiver and god, it’s everything and nothing like I’d expected.

“I trust Ben, and I thought you did, too,” Kyle responds matter-of-factly. “You and I both know that Ben would never hurt me. Just like you’d never hurt me.”

“You’re right. You're right. I’m sorry,” he says, stepping away. He walks over to Kyle and kisses him deeply. There’s no doubt in my mind that the moment I leave, Warren is going to carry Kyle upstairs and shag him through the mattress.

“Ben, are you alright? You look like you need to sit down,” he say and rubs my arm. I nod and wave him away so I can sag against the counter behind me. I fucking dodged a bullet there, and I know it.

“Now that’s settled, let’s get this kitchen cleaned up before someone cuts themselves on broken glass.”

“I broke it so I’ll take bloody care of it,” I say, though I’m still shaken and feel dazed. Kyle looks at me critically, then opens the fridge and pulls out half of an apple pie and shoves it into my hands along with a fork.

“I think not. You’ve just been through a lot in the last hour and you need to sit down and eat something. You didn’t finish your lunch; you’ve got to be starving. Do werewolves go into shock? You look shocky,” he says and ruffles my hair, “Go sit on the couch and try to calm down. Eat the pie. We’ve got this, Ben.”

Kyle pushes me in the direction of the living room and I go without a word. As I settle on the couch and start to eat the pie, I can hear the two of them speaking in low tones in the kitchen, too low for my werewolf hearing. I’m sure Kyle is telling Warren what I told him earlier. It doesn’t matter. He’ll find out eventually, if Adam hasn’t already told him most of it. I can’t bloody eat and set the pie down on the coffee table with a clatter. I want to leave, but I think Kyle would be pissed if I did. I hear sweeping and the tinkle of broken glass.

Warren comes out of the kitchen with a couple of beers. He hands one to me and arches his eyebrow at the uneaten pie on the coffee table. “You better eat that before Kyle comes out here.”

“I’m not hungry,” I say and take a swig of the beer. I’m exhausted and want to curl up in the corner of the couch in wolf form and be pet until I fall asleep. I curl my feet under me and turn to face Warren instead.

“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions earlier. I called the office looking for Kyle and they told me something had happened and he’d cancelled his appointments for the day. Then he wasn’t answering his phone and I got scared. I took that out on you, and I’m sorry. I was an ass but I wasn’t going to hurt you, I swear. Can you forgive me?” he asks earnestly. He looks like he’s really sorry but isn’t sure how to fix it. I’ve been there and I don’t want to be angry any more today, so I just nod.

“I hope it’s okay that he told me a little about what you said about your past.”

I nod again. He reaches out and pats my shoulder, then gives it a gentle squeeze, “I hope we’re okay.”

“Yeah, we are. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“About that,” he says as he slides his hand to the base of my neck and cups my head so I look him in the eye, “I don’t ever want to hear you threaten to give us back that key and leave. You mean a lot to both of us and I don’t think Kyle will ever forgive you if you stop coming ‘round. He just threatened to defenestrate me if I scared you off. I think he really meant it, and to tell the truth, I’d let him if you left because I scared you. You’re basically family, whether you want to be or not.”

“Fuck off,” I blurt out, gobsmacked. I didn’t even know what to think about this new information. Kyle and Warren had said they liked having me around, but I didn’t realize to what extent. If I was in wolf form, I’d be wagging my tail. Then there was Kyle, brave, ferocious Kyle, threatening Warren in my defense and I knew I was absolutely loyal to him. He’d make a fucking scary werewolf if he ever decided to try Changing, god help us all.

Warren laughs and ruffles my hair as I sit there gaping. He jerks his head, inviting me to get closer. I don’t even consider not doing so as I lean against him with a sigh. Kyle walks in a few minutes later and stops cold when he sees me curled against Warren’s side, him scratching lightly in my hair as we watch Mythbusters. He smiles like the sun.

“Now here’s a scene to warm my heart. I’m so glad you two made up. Can I get in there and get me some of that?” he says and crawls across Warren’s lap and settles in a sprawl, with his legs over Warren’s and his back against my chest. I want to move over and give them some space, but he takes my hand and tugs me closer. Warren drops a kiss on his head and goes back to watching the television.

This is the most I’ve been touched in years, and I’m surprisingly relaxed about it. I feel like a huge weight had been lifted off my chest and I could breath easily for the first time in forever. Despite everything that happened today, I doze off after only a few minutes. They smell like home are warm and soft, except for Kyle’s bony elbows. When I wake up, there’s a blanket over me and my head is in Kyle’s lap. Warren’s curled around Kyle and his hand rests protectively on my hip. They’re kissing tenderly and I let myself look.

Somehow my life didn’t implode on itself. I didn’t lose anything, but I think I gained a lot more than I ever expected. They know I’m a sick fuck now, but I’m their sick fuck, damnit. For the first time in a very, very long time, I don’t hate myself for watching. I’ve got a long way to go, but I think I’m going to be okay.


End file.
